Prince Valiant and the Doctrine of Cowardice
If you follow the comment sections for any of my posts, it's abundantly clear that I've set off on a course of character assassination in my previous post. This Prince Valiant has enraged me more than any other character in this town full of memorable characters. His behavior, while almost territorial in nature, bothers me on another level that I can't explain fully without resorting to a sense of primal rage that borders on the violent in nature. In an effort to continue the dialogue, I post here my comments that I left for FTL in reaction to her second comment. I do so, not because I feel the need to showcase them, but because I feel that I make some valid points, and for the more practical reason that you're limited to comments that are less than 1,000 characters in length unless, of course, you're a paid subscriber. Here are my unfiltered comments, which will be followed by my further thoughts on the matter.

(To make sense of this opening, read FTL's second comment before reading this diatribe.)
No, I would never dream of asking you to do such a thing. I don't care THAT much. It just bothers me because I haven’t done anything around him that requires him to give me sideways glances all the time. Hell, between that and the music librarian who couldn't look me in the eyes and accuse me of stealing some liner notes, I'm almost ready to throw in the towel, have all my materials sent to the South Side branch, and never set foot in the Main Library again.

However, this would be admitting defeat and allowing this worm to win a subconscious victory over me. I can't let that happen. In fact, I'm thinking, upon my return, to frequent the library on a daily basis, make sure he sees me lingering around, and see what happens. Obviously, this guy is a coward who wouldn't confront me about anything, and I'm not about to do anything to risk such a scene. You know, if Benedict can make it a mission to vainly try to pry more than the rote responses from a crazy man, who actually does patronize the Main branch and is bothersome to other patrons and should be considered a real "threat," then I feel it's not too much of a stretch to make this MY cause. I know it's childish, and oh so male, but I can't help myself. This guy is a jerk, and there's no reason for him to look at me as some "stalker," "thief," or "problem patron" in any sense of the word.

Whew! Well, now that that's in the open, let's further address the problems I have with these types of people. First off, as I've stated previously, I'm aware of the various types of people who inhabit this town. In other words, I know there's a lot of creeps out there who exhibit behavior that can be construed as being on the fringe in many senses of the word. There's really no argument there. Also, it's obvious that the library, as in most towns, seems to act as a magnet for these types of degenerates. I've seen a lot of things happen in the library, but it's by no means a continuous flow of disturbances. For the most part, the library functions as it's meant to, and there's not a lot of activity occurring that seems to be out of the ordinary. Having said that, then it appears, though, that the employees of this place, or at least the two described above, greet every interaction as potentially being negative in nature. For example, the incident with the liner notes and this woman's inability to recognize me and the fact that I've checked out well over a hundred discs without prior violation tells me that she immediately assumes the worst about any such dispute. Obviously, in her mind, I stole the liner notes because I had the disc last. There's no possibility that (1) someone else took them (2) they fell out somewhere between where I returned the disc and its eventual reshelving in its proper place most likely due to a cracked case, which it did have. No, I must have them. Her tone when asking, "do you have them" signals to me that she's convicted me already. My gut response would be to say, "Yeah, I have them. I've checked out hundreds of items and returned them without incident, but I stole these particular liner notes. Give me a break."

As I said above, I realize there are innumerable patrons with less than stellar records and records that must look horrendous, but that doesn't mean you should greet each and every patron with the some sort of preconceived notions of guilt. If it were up to her, I would have been fined for the replacement cost of the notes. It's not the accusation that stings as much as the way in which it was done. I don't care if 99 out of every 100 patrons are problematic in some way or another. I believe you give them all the benefit of the doubt. Isn't this what customer service is about? If you think everyone is a criminal, transfer to a prison library where they are all criminals. That way you can give them the avoidance stare on a daily basis with good reason.

Now, back to Prince Valiant, the protector of the flock, or the protector of the womenfolk. Benedict and I have discussed on numerous occasions the hedonistic qualities that seem to pervade our culture. However, we've never discussed the aspects of chivalry, which I thought was dead and buried long ago. Apparently Prince Valiant views all the women who work around, beside, and under him as a flock of quivering waifs in need of a heroic protector. Every male, especially those who aren't dead from the waist down, should be observed with suspicion. It's obvious they're up to no good. This figure of authority feels the need to look with a watchful eye on anyone who actually has the nerve to converse with the women who work there. It appears as if his problem stems from unsaid boundaries that are crossed on a daily basis by other members of the male sex. The proverbial wolf in sheep's clothing.

Again, the same principals apply to this dude that apply to the lady described above. Everyone is greeted, no matter how unfairly, with guilt and suspicion. Obviously, there are creeps who are out there and come to the library for no other reason than for purposes that will, hopefully, lead to a conviction on some grounds in the near future. However, are all males full of less than noble intentions? No, of course not, which is why this guy's insistence at observing me with suspicion bothers me, and his cowardice bothers me even more.

It's apparent that it's easier to subscribe to the doctrine of cowardice than it is to confront problems head on. Hell, I do it myself, but there's no reason for someone to do so that's in a position that is decidedly public in nature. Funny, I don't recall being taught in library school to view all patrons as thieves, stalkers, or worse. Where'd this idea come from? If you say it's just life in the big city, that doesn't cut it. It's along the same lines as the rudeness that pervades this town, but the library is supposed to be a sanctuary from this sort of behavior. Sure, caution is a good thing to exert in a place filled with all types of people, but to constantly glance sideways at other males, which this guy apparently has a habit of doing, and being rude and accusatory to patrons is way out of line. What bothers me the most about this is that these two are probably secure in their positions. I'm sure they're terrific at what they do, but their behavior suggests otherwise. Clear out and let someone else take the reins if you're going to hide behind a veil of cowardice that stives to portray itself as heroism. No matter how right you think you are at behaving this way, it's wrong. It's cowardice pure and simple, and it's behavior like this that makes the public at large give little or no regard to libraries or any other establishment that chooses to employ these types of people.

Good luck getting donors. You can bet I won't be one of them.